


11:8

by Cynara



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Deep Throating, Extreme Cock, Fellatio, Multi, Super-soldiers, Tag-teaming, pick-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynara/pseuds/Cynara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder goes with a woman he meets in a bar. Too bad C.G.B. Spender sent her and she's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	11:8

11:8

C.G.B. Spender walked down the utilitarian hallway, its light grey walls like so many he knew. Mulder had to be contained, now that he was ruined as a martyr. He would miss the boy, but the time for sentimentality was over. The plan was more important than any other consideration.

He opened the locked door, slipping through quickly. Here the walls were a darker grey, the lights dimmer. He smiled at the young woman dressed in a white shirtwaist and grey skirt. Slender with a good figure, her nose was rather too large for her ever to be considered pretty. "Hello, Vixen." Her full mouth made that a moot point.

"Good afternoon, Sir."

He watched as she slipped her buttons from their holes. It was too bad she couldn't let down her hair, but women were much too creative with hairpins; anyway, short hair was more common now. She pulled the blouse from the waistband of her skirt.

Spender unhooked the top of his trousers. He considered the amazing science they now had as she removed her brassiere. He unzipped. She knelt. Each of her sisters was identical--he exhaled as she took him in--same hazel eyes, same light brown hair which he clutched as he slid in deeper, same jaw that worked so hard.

An innovation that would be so handy for destroying Mulder, he'd had them specially made for that purpose. During years when it was uncertain they'd be used. Mulder's death, resurrection and fall had happened while they floated in their tank. Three years of gestation had come to fruition. Mulder had had a year of wandering friendless. He was ripe---

Spender's head dropped back as he shoved deeper, unconcerned beyond the strong throat surrounding him, stripping him, swallowing. He breathed deep and pulled back. He wiped himself dry and zipped back up. He needed a cigarette.

"You have a go, Vixen." He left the room with her still on her knees.

Mulder sat in a bar where no one knew your name. Which was good since he didn't recall it himself half the time, he changed identification so often. He sat nursing a scotch, too wary to get drunk like he desperately wanted. The fight was out there and somehow he had to make a difference.

"You look like you could use a friend."

Mulder looked from the hand over his own to the woman sitting across from him. Not the usual for a bar like this, she looked like someone's administrative assistant. Pretty with a slight curl to her short brown hair, he thought her eyes might be green.

"How good a friend do you want to be?" He smiled, tilting his head. Why had she picked him? Chance or intention. He needed more data.

"Buy me a drink?"

Mulder lifted his hand for the waitress and let his new friend order. She'd switched her grip to his right hand, stroking his knuckles. They made small talk, sipping their drinks. Each time he decided that she was only what she appeared to be, she'd say something that could be veiled information. An administrative assistant pretending to be a prostitute pretending to be an administrative assistant in order to pass conspiracy secrets unobserved appealed to him. Lifted from Lifetime?

"I like you." She set her empty glass on the table and stood, still holding Mulder's hand. He quickly fumbled to put down money for the drinks and grab his cane, following as she pulled him out the back door. He should play along for similitude.

She stepped close, licking beneath his jaw. Dressed as she was, the alley was rather erotic than pathetic. He wondered how far she'd go for her cover. Her fingers played over him, pulled out his shirttails then moved to his collar and unbuttoned the topmost buttons. Had he misjudged? She unzipped and drew him out, staring him in the eye. Not an administrative assistant from the grip she used. He moaned as she dropped to her knees on his shoetops and wrapped her mouth over the head of his dick.

He whimpered as she let it go and bit back another as she licked. She leaned in closer, sucking, licking and sucking deeper again. Intern. A professional would have set pricing, unless this was a new crack sales initiative. He was certain she was the only thing holding him up when halfway down his cock she slid all the way to his pubes. No one could completely deepthroat him, but she was and with gusto. He tried to look away from that mouth sliding up and down his dick, wanting it to last as long as possible. It was a revelation seeing her take all of him, over and over with ease. Sweet hell as she worked him to the brink only to start again.

He lost it as she stifled his scream, swallowing him until he was jammed down her throat. Mulder was barely aware as she put him away wet and grabbed him by the waist. Slinging his arm over her shoulder, she pulled him down the alley to a parked car. He didn't resist as she poured him in and cinched the belt. Next he knew she was driving fast, lights strobing over the windshield.

"Make yourself comfortable." She deposited him on an oversized daybed, and walked through a beaded curtain.

Mulder tried to stand, flopping back when his legs wouldn't obey. He was still sitting there when she returned. "I, I didn't get your name."

She smiled at that and unbuttoned her blouse. She then stepped closer, and undid his shirt. Her long fingers slid up and down his chest.

He lifted his hands and settled them gingerly on her waist. He couldn't possibly be ready again, but he was, or at least would be very soon. He fingered up her back.

"Take it off."

He first slid the shirt sleeves down her arms, then unhooked the bra. Each breast was a perfect handful which he measured with scientific rigor. One moment he was kissing the globes and their pink peaks, the next he was shirtless and on his stomach, arms behind him. Shit.

He relaxed again as her hands teased his socks past his ankles and stroked his toes. He pushed up on his knees so she could remove his pants. His concern slammed back as something warm and slick pressed against his anus. It didn't hurt, and it moved slowly, breaching him only as he loosened up. This would be where the jealous boyfriend busted in and took his mouth . He struggled; she clearly worked out. Something much larger than fingers pressed at his hole. Her breasts touched his shoulders and he felt himself opening.

The dildo was huge sliding in, in, in without end. Both long-fingered hands grazed over him just as he noticed the hot sacks bouncing off his balls. He fought as the cock pulled back and slid into him. Thighs tightened, squeezing his cheeks around the invading member. Hands held him and breasts pressed into his back. He was being fucked slowly, carefully, which was unusual for the standard bait and switch profile. Mulder was turned on despite himself. Bit more friction on his prick... He gasped, saw stars. Again!

His wish was demand apparently as the sliding length struck him just so, its penetration frustratingly irregular, but becoming more frequent. He was being fucked faster and harder, threatening to split him apart. Her hand reached under him, jerking him hard and he came, pounded hard.

He gasped almost wistfully as the softening flesh slipped from him. The sting of withdrawal was still burning as he was filled again, balls heavy against his ass. If anything this slow possession was more torturous, more maddening than the last. He had no leverage, and the slight shimmying he could manage was apparently just encouragement, from the nips on his neck. Something coiled within him as his prostate was targeted. Still soft it built relentlessly, making him moan, arch and buck.

Mulder was penetrated again as he regained consciousness. Someone was taking Cialis! "Why?" He tried turning for a look at his fucker, just getting a kink in his neck. He tossed his head, only half successful at avoiding the kisses.

He drifted, time bleeding together. Extremely wet sounds at each stroke suggested how full of come he was. He lost track, unable to guess how many there were taking turns. He came again, possibly twice, so unstrung he couldn't be sure even of that. He had to be raw but his rim was numb and slick with lube. Huge cocks splitting him was his whole existence.

The mattress sank deeper and he tensed, gritting his teeth in preparation for further abuse. He opened his eyes when expectation failed. He looked at his friend from the bar warily. She was nude with one leg pulled up like a bomber pinup, fingers stroking his hair.

"Did you have a good time?"

He jerked at a matching caress on his other side. He gaped, "Two?!" He looked between them. "Twins?"

"Our sisters helped." She stretched out as a reclining odalisque, legs parting.

Mulder stared at the impressive equipment between 'her' legs. He swallowed and turned. Her 'sister' spread her legs coyly, displaying matching tackle. If they were growers...

She said sisters, plural?! He looked between them, eyes wide. How many 'sisters' did they have? How many sisters had had him?

"Don't think you're ready for that again yet."

Mulder felt his arms slide to his sides limply. His muscles protested as his 'friends' shifted him upright and carried him to what turned out to be a bathroom. He stumbled from their grip, pushing the door shut as he dropped onto the commode.

Naturally, there wasn't so much as a dry towel in the bathroom. He found a clean washcloth and cleaned off the worst with it. He needed two canes for support. Fingertip bruises peppered his hipbones. He gripped the sink and closed his eyes. He could remember them inside him like it was happening again. He looked down in disgust at his cock, trying for tumescence. Now, he didn't think twin transsexuals suddenly decided to cruise for a tagteam playmate and ended up with him. Who would pass up twins?

Focus. Mulder rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to concentrate on something other than his ass and dick. Right. He sensed that he'd been set up. Who wanted to fuck him over this much? Stupid question. Better, who could dredge up however many transsexual 'sisters'?

He opened the door, putting forward his best stagger, looking for answers. Eight identical, dressed, women brought him up short. The thought of what those tweed skirts covered-- he tried to ignore the jerk of his dick. "You didn't have to dress on my account. So, introductions?"

Clones. They were clones. He supposed he was fortunate there were only eight. He hoped there were only eight. Damn his dick again.

"My name's Vixen."

In multichannel sound it was impressive. "Must save on monogramming. Who sent you?" Okay, he didn't really expect an answer. "What are you?" He wondered if a hybrid's semen would be toxic like their blood. He wasn't anywhere near sore enough for that.

They looked at each other. One spoke. "We're the future, Fox. You should rest. My sisters haven't had a chance to taste you."

Blood rushed south, engorging him to rock hardness.

Mulder opened his eyes. He'd been tucked into bed after he was given the best (save one) blowjob of his life, too tired to resist. He had no way to judge how long he'd been asleep. From the way they had watched, he wasn't leaving until they each got their turn. He couldn't fault that proposition if they could all give head with his balls nearly in their mouths.

He wondered what they meant about being the future. If the aliens had their way 2012 was the end of humanity's future. He closed his eyes, knowing that he needed answers before escaping. Why had they produced transsexual clones? Sheer confusion on the part of the aliens? The sexy secretary bit suggested more terrestrial intervention. Did they have to make them so big? He fell asleep to pornographic dreams.

Mulder woke hungry. He thought he'd pass on anything spicy--for the next year. He looked around for his clothes, not seeing them. Great, fuck him and keep him naked. All torture is psychological. He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He pissed and looked at himself in the mirror. Not bad for a man that took it up the ass eight times last night. He noticed something hanging from the shower curtain and turned.

He unpinned it and read. 'Please take a shower, Fox. Vixen.' He looked around, finding a fresh washcloth and handtowel. Even a toothbrush and paste and a cordless shaver. No clothes or bathsheet. He considered not freshening up out of spite, and decided against it. Eight to one were very long odds and keeping them sweet was in his best interests. They could make this much more unpleasant. He started the water.

Mulder was surprised to find breakfast waiting for him. They want me to keep up my strength. The only thing missing was a serviette; fish and tomato slices, potatoes, muffins, orange juice and tea in the all-together. He knew people that would pay for a holiday like this.

He had just about finished eating when the sisters all joined him. "What are you going to do with me?" He didn't like the hint of smile he got in reply. Or the jerk of his own dick in response. When his company didn't move any closer he ate the last of his meal, trying for nonchalance. "What do you mean you're the future?"

One replied, "The universe is a dangerous place and humanity are infants."

Okay, that was classic Conspiracy Theory. "And how does this little scenario fit in? Someone sent you. What are your orders? How does this help humanity grow up?"

Another answered, "You have fought against change, Fox. Too much is at stake."

"What do you know about stakes? I've lost everything, had my partner abducted, infected, my father killed, my sister stolen and cloned--" It was pointless, they couldn't understand and he couldn't think clearly, like this.

The nearest Vixen stepped closer. "You could use a friend. You can't stop the future." She stroked her fingers down his chest.

Mulder cursed his dick as it drained blood from his brain. It liked them, liked them a lot - and how! The rest of him was less certain, with his abused ass wanting them to abstain. He caught her by the waist. Okay, more of him was sold than he'd thought. He teased over the thin shirt. "They going to stay?"

One of the others spoke. "Later, Fox." They left.

Mulder couldn't think. His ass was saying no and his dick was standing up and begging. Her wandering hands stroked him and her lips mouthing his neck derailed anything beyond getting her naked. "Clothes." He pawed at her buttons.

Vixen pulled back, slowly and decisively undoing her buttons before closing the distance again. Mulder caressed her possessively, savoring the smooth flesh and rougher bra. He humped against her, ignoring the meeting hardness under the wool skirt. Mulder clutched her ass, devouring her.

"Take it off." Vixen reached back to unzip the skirt while shimmying encouragement. She moaned as Mulder thumbed her bare nipples.

He wanted her like this, the pretense of her being all woman intact despite there being one too many cocks at bat. How did one ask to stuff their dick down their captor's throat?

Hell, almighty! Ask and receive, she nearly toppled him, pouring down and sucking him in. Honestly, he was deadweight and being held upright. Thrusting was too complicated and fortunately unnecessary. She swallowed him slowly, rocking him deep into her throat. He whimpered as she tightened her throat around him then slid back until all but the tip was free.

Mulder tried to gain leverage, to plant himself deeper into the wet heat. Now her strength worked against him, held him immobile. Patience was torture. He knew he fit and he wanted all the way in. She teased down his shaft, losing and gaining ground staggerstep. Yes! Tip to root he was sheathed in constricting muscle. He moaned as she pulled back, reswallowing him quickly. She worked him like a piston, faster and further, the friction fantastic. He thrummed. He came.

He went completely limp, his softening cock the only stiffness in his body. He draped in Vixen's arms like a surreal Pieta, her mouth still laving his crotch. He felt movement as she scooped him up and bore him to bed. Utterly relaxed, being fucked didn't worry him now. He watched her discard the halfslip and panties, unconcerned by the eleven inches standing erect.

She climbed over him, pressing him into the mattress. Breasts to chest, dick jabbing him in the stomach, Mulder waited for Vixen to take him but succumbed to sleep as she ground against his hip.

Mulder was drifting into consciousness, something wonderful buoying him to the surface. His half-open lids revealed two Vixens tongue-bathing his balls with the occasional mouth-press on his cock. It revived his interest. Boneless with a boner. Maybe they could put that on his headstone, because there was no way he could survive two at once. Fire burned where they touched, mapped his skin, teased his nipples as they suckled his balls.

The thought of three of them going down on him at once nearly set him off. He winced at the hard squeeze to the base of his prick. Yeah, balls rolled and cock swallowed all at once. Three faces all turned to him. He looked down, realizing his loss, shocked as his nipples were latched onto. Hands cupped him, encouraging and cooling him in turn.

Mulder fought to get his arms up, needing to touch and anchor. He couldn't focus with this much skin on skin. He wriggled, planting his mouth over Vixen's. Her shivers were intoxicating, and he deepened the kiss with unknown reserves. His arms crushed her to him as the other Vixen worked south and secured her target.

He was vaguely aware of a trade, tasting a hint of himself in Vixen's mouth. He moaned as he lost the kiss, then stared down. One worked his cock while the other entertained his balls and then they'd swap. He wanted all of them at once, eight cocks, sixteen breasts and thirty-two limbs writhing over him. The bed wasn't big enough for it, his mind wasn't big enough for it. He needed to suck them off. He bucked, thrust, shook as his orgasm ripped through him.

Mulder woke to a kiss. He tried to follow as the lips pulled back, only to have a hand press him down. Another mouth met his and left, was replaced and that one displaced in turn. He managed to squeak out "What?", between kisses.

"It's good." The kisses became more enthusiastic and prolonged, as the Vixens worked themselves up.

Mulder struggled to sit up. There was no way they could give head like they did without practice. "Haven't you been kissed before?"

"Not like this." She devoured his mouth and gave way for her sister.

"Not a man."

Mulder shut away the thought of them practicing fellatio on one another, ignoring the renewed interest of his cock in the proceedings. "Vixen-" He could only kiss them one at a time, but he could watch them.

Several of them demonstrated what they meant. It wasn't erotic, but he still got harder at the familial bussing. "You, you're, too many, clothes."

"You need to eat first."

Oh, God!

This time they had joined him in his meal. Perhaps it was Stockholm Syndrome, perhaps Pavlovian conditioning, but he had been aroused by sharing table naked with them dressed. He'd redirected his thoughts from how Vixen had gained her skills each time they surfaced.

He'd since been blown once and was now tangled with Vixen. He couldn't get his hands in enough places at once. She swapped between his mouth and cock like she couldn't decide which was better. He pulled her in close during the kiss, considering asking for a lesson in giving fellatio when his hand felt the knobby vertebra. She sucked his brain out his dick while he boggled.

Mulder scrambled back in the bed with still half-boneless legs. He'd been letting eight transsexual supersoldiers fuck him four ways to Friday. That he couldn't do anything about it wasn't registering.

"Fox?"

"You're one of them."

"We said we were the future."

"You're the end of history, not the future."

Vixen leaned back, clearly frustrated with this interruption of their play. She pulled distractedly at her length. "Do you have to do this now?" Vixen arched a little, clearly getting close. She cupped her breast in one hand and a ball in the other.

Mulder swallowed and licked his lips. Divine. He could just lean over and take the tip and she'd come. Probably spurt over his face if she didn't choke him. He needed this on disc, could beat off to her playing with herself all night long. "Yes, I do." He hated this about himself.

She looked at him and pulled up into a kneel. "Humans are fragile. Pierce them, snap them, burn, drown or gas them and they die. We're not alone, Fox."

Mulder laughed. He was in bed with an erect supersoldier whose breasts were set off by a dick as big as his own. "And who made you and your seven sisters? You are the invasion, not the future."

"We're the only hope for defense."

Mulder wanted to spit, rage, present gory slides. He shivered thinking how he'd almost been washed down the drain. Vixen had to be tank-raised, given their numbers. That had to be a positive, he wasn't fucking a parasite, right? Ironically, he judged that she was sincere, really believed that she was humanity's last, best hope. What was, whomever's, game? He reached for her, thumb teasing down the foreskin. He smiled at the way her breasts heaved. He surged closer sealing his mouth over hers. Her cock felt natural in his hand, foreskin not withstanding.

They fell backwards, Mulder on top. Vixen arched, hands hungry over his skin. Mulder stroked her hair, letting his hand slide down to her neck and worry the projecting vertebra. Why had they made Vixen? He suspected the answer to that would clarify who made them.

He worked Vixen's cock in his well-practiced grip. He groaned as her legs wrapped around his thighs. She was fucked, set up to take the fall when she realized what the aliens really had planned for humanity. Would she have to tilt at windmills? At least they were created to come back from the dead. He tightened his grip, working her more roughly. She came, spattering into her cleavage. Mulder shook, knowing that looking back, this would make him hard. He swiped at the fluid and nuzzled into her breasts. She made a very nice pillow.

Mulder woke up to the most beautiful head he'd ever gotten. He lay his hands on her head in perverse blessing. He wondered if the previous Vixen had shared what he'd said to her sisters. This would be the Vixen that hadn't blown him yet. "Yes!" He loved the way they took him to the root, two little pops barely noticeable. Clearly he should have taken up with a swordswallower before this. Phoebe had been willing enough, unlike Diana, but couldn't manage the last few inches. The friction was incredible as his head rocked in and out of the constricting esophagus.

He wanted to do it to Vixen. He might not be able to take the last few inches. Lips clamped the base of his cock, stopping him from coming. He wanted his throat fucked. He looked down at the mystery between his legs, sliding in and out of Vixen's lush mouth. Why had they been sent? He doubted they just wanted the challenge, as full of it as his dick was. This was the best he'd ever been fucked over by the Conspiracy. He shot his load, shaking as he was milked, lips, tongue, soft palate, throat and that little extra bit all working together to slag his mind. How all of them could take him simultaneously burnt into his synapses.

"Fox?"

He battled the weight of his eyelids. Funny how he didn't mind the name from them. Surprisingly they were clustered around him, looking like a sorority slumber party in shorties and camisoles. Which one had been blowing him last? Who had picked him up at the bar, however many days ago? He swallowed, thinking that being smothered in their tits would be the best way to go. He felt them pulling him up, some of them sliding into bed, shoring him up. A cup was lifted to his lips and he swallowed the warm broth. They pulled away when he tried to gulp, allowing him only sips. He drained it and the cup went away. "What?"

"You're so fragile. You dehydrated. Expended too much energy." Three of them clearly voiced their concerns. "You need a bath. And a meal. Sleep." Another three chimed in.

He waited for another two choruses, but was instead escorted into the bathroom. They poured him into the tub, sponging him down. Talk about service with a smile. He mewled in loss as they abandoned each bit of flesh too soon. He wanted them to fuck him from both ends, he wanted his cock and balls sucked with single-minded devotion, his nipples besieged. Mulder wanted Vixen to suck his throat as it distended with thrusting meat, wanted her to scatter her sisters and ride him with her ass. He shivered with the image scorched into every neuron, every nerve burning. "I want to blow you." He hummed at the whisper kisses that earned him.

He was pulled from the tub and enveloped in huge towels. They dressed him for the first time in days, in sage grey pajamas and then a robe. Vixen fed him slowly until he was full and brought him back to a freshly made bed. Two of them slid in to keep him company. He was snoring within minutes.

Mulder awoke, surprised at clothing. Something had happened. He sat up, alone in the bed. Something smelled good. He looked at the robe, and decided to put it on. He'd missed clothes. He went to investigate.

He was surprised when he was guided into a chair and plied with water and orange juice right away. Looking over the rim of his glass, he humored them and drank up. Okay, so he was thirsty. He picked up the other one and drained it too.

He noticed that today the table did have napkins. He looked at the plate brought in. "That's very green." Other than the hunk of salmon and the whipped potatoes the plate held more vegetables than he thought he'd eaten in the past month. He dug in. "What?" The maternal look wasn't what he expected from Vixen. Scully yes, transsexual supersoldier no.

"Nothing, Fox."

Now, part of him should have been considering seriously that they were contemplating how to kill him after becoming attached. He dismissed it each time it surfaced, obsessed instead with sucking their dicks. Didn't they have skimpy 'jamas? He could get Vixen topless and pull the bottoms down just enough to free her. Busy with his oral fixation he cleaned his plate.

"You should go back to bed."

"That a proposition?" He grinned in filthy invitation.

"You lost consciousness."

"Good sex will do that." She was wavering. He needed to get back the Vixen that could take his ass like it was a baton relay. "Where are your sisters?" He didn't expect an answer and wasn't disappointed. He let her guide him back to the bed, malingering for sympathy. Vixen would look great in a nurse outfit. He pulled her close as he sat down. "I want to taste you." He slid a hand up her skirt. "Push down your foreskin and wrap my lips around your corona." He was getting excited by his own words. He considered a bit of 69; maybe later. He unbuttoned the lowest one on her shirt, stroking the exposed flesh. He slipped another button free and another, leaning in to lick the bared skin.

Mulder smiled when he heard the unzipping of the skirt. He pushed down the panties and stared eye to blind eye. There was a lot of it. He wetted his thumb and index finger and rubbed the foreskin. Hadn't Mao said the dong of eleven inches started with a single lick? Mao, Jong, did it matter? He leaned down, swiping his tongue over the revealed head. He looked up and did it again. He smiled, lowering his mouth. Fingers rested on his shoulders. He swished his tongue side to side as he slid lower and pulled back.

He pushed at Vixen's hip, knowing he didn't have the leverage to hold her upright. She sat on the bed. He took her a bit deeper and pulled away, quickly licking his palm. He gave her a few strokes and took the tip in his mouth again. Mulder was the world's best cocksucker from the noises Vixen was making. She was the tops at going down. He fisted her cock, considering how to get a few more inches in his mouth. It was just a matter of overriding the gag reflex. He forced his mouth a bit lower.

Vixen's hips jerked, shoving into him. He fought to disgorge only her, his hand tightening. He watched her buck in loss. He moved back and leaned in, putting all his weight against his arm across her pelvis. Mulder wetted his hand again, sliding it up and down her length. Back into the breech. He took the first four inches smoothly and tried to halve the distance between his mouth and hand. Flattening his tongue seemed to help and he slid lower. He squeezed her at the base, needing more time to work this out. He pushed a bit further down, swallowing frantically and releasing several inches. He tensed at Vixen's hands in his hair until he felt them just ruffling. He was going to do this. He steadied himself on the first third of her cock, doing everything that had ever felt good to him, and then sank slowly. He kept swallowing and that seemed to help as long as he backed off every so often. He was so focused he missed the signs until she was pouring down his throat. He worked his hand over the base to wring her out. He looked up, pulling back when he saw she was done.

He groaned as he bumped his heavy cock. He struggled out of the robe, shirked off the tunic and kicked free the drawstring pants. He burrowed between her thighs as he latched his mouth over hers. He moaned his release over her tongue.

He woke up to another round of tonsil hockey and then a big glass of juice. He looked at the one that handed it to him warily.

"Got to keep you hydrated." She hitched at the way he swallowed the juice to the dregs.

He handed back the glass. "I'll, clean up." He padded off to the bathroom, pissed and took a catbath. He fantasized about three of them in the shower with him. He couldn't tell which one he'd blown, and that hurt. Then he considered he didn't know which one fucked him first or sucked him how and it mattered less. "Who wants to be my research partner?" He wasn't ready for them to gang his mouth, it required too much concentration and spit. He wanted to be spitted on their prongs.

"Fox?"

He leaned back into Vixen holding him up. Too much of his blood was suddenly in his dick for him to stand on his own. He murmured as her hand stroked his cock. He shoved back, frustrated by the skirt. He wanted to be fucked. Now. Mulder went limp, pulling them both to the floor and waggled his ass against her crotch. He looked at the others, looking for a third to this little party. He wanted double-banged. He fought as they put him onto the bed. The bed sank with additional movement and a cockhead pushed into his mouth.

He offered his hand and moaned as Vixen licked it lasciviously. Mulder made her moan as he wrapped the moistened palm around her cock and took her deeper. He slid his hand in time with his mouth, masking the uncovered inches.

He swallowed as the attention to his ass intensified, finger circling the inside of his hole. He flattened his tongue at the blunt pressure behind him and took Vixen into his throat as Vixen pushed into his ass. He swallowed with his mouth against his grasping hand. He pulled back, groaning at the loss from both ends. He hitched as Vixen slid deeper into his ass and he swallowed his mouthful again.

Vixen's balls were soon slapping into him with every return stroke. He wanted to be able to take the last inches of Vixen's cock in his throat but something stopped it. How did she do it anyway? He kept trying in rhythm with the final three inches taking his ass.

The tempo sped and his experiment was abandoned, deep throating eight inches to the eleven in his ass. He lavished attention on his mouth- and throatful for a whole outstroke so he pulled away with Vixen's instroke. He slid down Vixen's cock as he was left empty. He felt pierced, threaded with a body-spitting length, slid back and forth. Forever was not enough, though his balls hung heavy and his cock was painfully hard. Vixen rocked into him and he went down faster. He swallowed compulsively as he was flooded. He needed to come. Mulder was eased from between his spent partners. He passed out as he was swallowed completely and sucked dry.

Mulder looked down, wiping the drool and semen from his mouth with the back of his hand. He hadn't had this much sex in years. Cumulatively. Vixen looked good pillowed on his thigh. They still forced meals and rest on him but fucked him like a sex toy. His technique was better though he still couldn't get Vixen in to the root. They didn't seem to mind but Mulder was fixated. He rolled onto his back, absently dislodging Vixen. He still wanted to be throat fucked with his knees over Vixen's shoulders, getting drilled from both ends. He moaned as his arms were filled by Vixen, his mouth plundered. He loved the perfect mounds of her breasts and buttcheeks. He idly wondered if she'd ever been penetrated. He'd never done that and was half afraid to do women even the normal way. Diana rode him like a conqueror and he'd loved her for it.

He pulled back. "Why?" The expression Vixen had every time he asked questions made him wish he could stop.

"Fox." She sat up when she saw he wasn't going to let go. "You can't keep interfering. Earth has to be ready. You may think you're helping but you aren't."

"And you're here to convince me?" He noticed the small tell that he'd seeded doubt. He hated it, but he was right and she'd been lied to. Maybe he couldn't stop the future, but they would make a perfect fifth column. Bred catspaws. He still felt like a heel. He let her pull him to the bathroom for a shower.

"How do you do it?" Practice still wasn't showing him how to swallow the last three inches. He knew his time was limited; there was no way eight supersoliders would be wasted on a broken ex-FBI agent indefinitely. Somehow he didn't think unrequited longing was the intended result of this ploy, though he wouldn't rule out being fucked to death. He wanted at least this secret out of the X-files. "Take me to the root."

"The esophagus is about half the diameter of the upper throat. It's a combination of wide swallowing and pressure. Like a rabbit swallowing a snake."

He stared at her and laughed as her grin appeared. Now she was sounding absurdly like him. Predatory rabbit. Damn, he wished he could sign up as their camp follower. "Teach me."

She stroked his hair. "We'll try. Rest first."

He didn't want to but his body vetoed him. When he woke it was the usual round of bath and food. He wondered how supersoldiers learned to cook, though supposed they had to have metabolisms to match their regenerative powers. He was surprised when two of them escorted him back to bed, one clothed and one quickly not.

"Your mouth is too distracting." The clothed sister sat on the bed looking like a post-Vatican II nun. Side by side with her erect twin it fried Mulder's brain. "I'll spot."

He licked his hand down and pulled back the foreskin before swirling his mouth over the head. He took her deeper with several popsicle pumps. He slid back to just the tip, fisting the saliva down her shaft. He deep throated Vixen, rocking on her cock.

"Take her all the way in and then swallow while pushing forward. Hold it and relax."

It hurt, burned, he was choking. Pressure, it was just pressure. He pulled away and back down, swallowing as he pressed. It stretched him, stroked him in an untouched place. Three inches. He'd have three inches of that brand new sensation.

"Pull back and catch your breath."

Mulder didn't want to obey the voice but he did as told. Possibly the only time he did, mind drifting to Scully. He mouthed the hard flesh and took it in again, trying to push it past in one motion. He had to release and break it down. He bore down and felt the pop, taking it a bit deeper. He pulled back and looked up. She was leaning on her hands, tits lifted and head thrown back. He swallowed again, forcing more of her past the constriction. He stroked her back and forth before releasing the tip higher in his throat. Mulder pulled back further, lavishing the head and stroking spit down to the root. He inhaled her and pushed down, grabbing her hips in both hands.

Vixen came in tattoo jerks and he held her head deep, keeping his face from striking hard. He swallowed her dry. He pulled back breathless, releasing the softening cock reluctantly. He stood with difficulty, kneeing onto the bed straddling Vixen. He laid his dick in her cleavage and pulled her hands up to press her breasts together. Clutching the rail, he thrust jerkily and shot, streaming over her face.

It was the beginning of the end. They'd apparently been given a time window for whatever this mission was and it was closing. The railings of the daybed had been removed and Vixens had been sliding in and out in extended musical foreplay. Mulder arched his neck back and pulled his knees to his chest. He ached to be fucked, wanted to be torn apart by this maenad mash. Double-bore tag-team.

"Fox." Hands clasped the top of his head. They caressed down his jaw, stroked his throat up and down, following his swallows, and moved to his shoulders. "Roll over." Weight joined him on the bed, knees nudging past his 'pits.

Mulder opened his eyes to the vein jutting inches over him. He arched his back off the bed. "Please!" He rocked, shook with need.

Another weight sunk the mattress near his feet. "Fox."

He wanted filled, skewered, used like a chinese fingerpuzzle. He needed this, this way. He looked down to Vixen. Damn. She was proud, hands on her sloping thighs, a single line running from her erection between her breasts and along her neck. He looked up past the cock above him. Their way or no way. Mulder rolled over and pushed the foreskin back with his lips.

He moaned at the thorough fingers and slow cock in his ass, taking more of her into his mouth. Bracketed by balls, they were his alpha and omega. He pulled back, clutching the freed length and worshiped the magical three inches. On him it was freakish but he loved Vixen's cock. He took her deeper, raising his hands, burying his face without an assisting grip. His thumbs teased her nipples in time to her sliding against that undiscovered skin.

They were so perfect, made for him. Vixen's breasts glorious handfuls, dicks as long as his own. He looked up and saw for the first time, eyes going wide. The jaw, the nose. They were made for him. Made from him. Cock pounded in his ass, thrummed in his throat. Clones. His clones.

He was choking. Fuck yourself had been Langly's favorite bon mot, and he was, had been--weeks? He couldn't breathe. How they'd done it, simple. Just science, alien, advanced. Why. He was coming, dying, suffocating. Sick fucker. Release. He embraced annihilation. His flame spluttered out as they came.

Vixen kissed Fox's back. She wanted to do it again, didn't think the base soldiers would be nearly so good at fellatio. She slipped her hands down to his cheeks while her sister tried to unsprawl and pull free. "Fox?" She ruffled his hair, trying to ease him from her lap. "Fox!?" She lifted him, looked into his open eyes. "Vixen!" She helped her sister roll him over while the others rushed in. She placed fingers on his carotid. No pulse, wasn't breathing. Vixen stumbled from the bed. She had to report.

"Sir." Had Fox told the truth?

"Vixen, are you done?" The commander's voice sounded different, in a way she couldn't place. Expectant? Maybe she was different.

"I killed him." There was silence from the other end. "I see." It hadn't been the plan, Fox was wrong. Dead wrong. "Unfortunate." She wanted to rage. "It's for the best, I'm sure." He didn't sound confident. He didn't sound exactly unpleased either. "Out of our hands now. Rendezvous. Out." The phone went dead. She dropped it, heading back to Fox.

They cleared his mouth and started CPR, switching to give him the most oxygen. "Come back." His chest moved with the air they put there. One found a pulse and halted the hands pumping his chest. "Breathe." They stinted, willing him to take over.

"He was telling the truth." She looked at her sisters, still willing Fox back to life. "The commander expected this." It hadn't been in his orders, but there was no shock at the news.

Fox thrashed, wrenching his mouth away, coughing. Strings of drool, of semen dripped from his lips. He fell onto his back, still breathing but eyes closed.

Vixen smiled and swallowed. "Clean up. We have to go." There was a lot of work to be done.

Mulder woke up in an alley. He checked for his cane and his wallet. Surprisingly he had both. His head hurt. His throat hurt, as did his chest and his ass. Pretty much, all of him. He pulled himself up, noticing he'd collapsed in the cleanest part of the alley. He tested the exit door, pulling it open. He didn't remember the bar but they put the bathrooms in pretty much the same place.

He ran some water and rubbed handfuls of it over his face. Not as much stubble as he'd expected but then he didn't remember when he'd shaved yesterday. Some days now he didn't shave at all. Must have done it late. He shut off the water, realizing that he needed to piss. He unzipped and did it. He looked down as he rezipped. What the? He moved his pants aside and saw the lipstick. He zipped up and washed his hands. He walked out of the john. "Where's a good tattoo parlor?"

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I've removed the underage tag as Vixen appears to be over the age of consent, despite how long she's been decanted.
> 
> Spoiler Warning:
> 
> Incest.


End file.
